A/N: Wow, over 2,000 hits! Amazing! People are telling me I'm treating Bruce very unfairly, and I really am. But remember, the people don't have all the facts and it really is their opinion from the stuff they've heard, which isn't complete. Like my nurse from the next chapter never heard about how the brawls started. She just assumed Bruce had attacked first, since she's biased against him. Don't worry, some nicer people should be appearing soon. :) This chapter has mixed opinions on Batman, and it is the requested Gotham socialite POV. I don't really like my character for this chapter, but she is supposed to be mean and shallow and all that. There are a lot more people in this scene than what I'm used to writing, so tell me if I need to go back and make anything clearer. Please R&R, reviews make me happy and they tell me what direction you guys would like the story to go. Input is nice :D

I sipped delicately at the glass of champagne, just barely wetting my lips. They had been cheap on drinks, and it was a second-rate vintage. Unfortunately, I didn't know until I had already snagged a glass from a wandering waiter. For now, I sat and pretended to drink while I waited for a waiter to come around again. I should have a chat with whoever organized this party. They ought to know better than to serve second-string champagne, and the service was terrible.

Amber and Michelle were giggling about something or other, but I was too occupied gazing across the room to join in their conversation. Peter was standing near the orchestra, conversing with some blonde girl who kept on inching closer and closer to him. My eyes narrowed. How dare she! Everyone knew that I had my sights set on the son of Gotham city's plastic tycoon. Not only was he rich and of an acceptable status, he was handsome too. Not Bruce Wayne handsome, but then again he had turned out to be that crazy man who dressed up like a bat.

I sighed and swirled the champagne around in the glass. One could never tell the strange secrets Gotham's elite hid. It was even rumored that Mark had an affair with one of his butlers! I shuddered at the indecency of having an affair with someone of a lower class. If he was going to be gay, he could at least be decent about it and date someone appropriate.

I was about to excuse myself from the table in order to reclaim my future husband from the clutches of that woman, when something they said caught my attention.

"-Wayne and that Batman scandal?"

The Batman scandal, as we have come to call it, was a popular conversation. It popped up at nearly every party since the news broke. Peter could wait, I decided. I know he didn't much like blondes, and this conversation was just getting interesting. Michelle's boy-toy (Some model from California this time) was giving his opinion.

"I think that Wayne had the right idea." He nodded, as if to confirm the thought. "Gotham City has the highest crime rate in the world, but thanks to the Batman it dropped significantly." Maybe the boy-toy wasn't as brainless as he first appeared. He certainly knew a lot more about current events than the last one.

"By running around dressed like a bat when any normal person would be asleep?" Amber threw her head back indignatly. She and I shared the same opinion, at least on this topic. "It's all because of him the Joker even came to this town!"

A shiver went around the table at the mention of Gotham's menace. Even though he had been strangely inactive since the Batman was put in jail, people were terrified he would strike again. Some insisted that now the Joker had what he wanted, he would leave Gotham, but the majority felt that the Joker wasn't finished with the city yet.

Boy-toy scoffed. "The Joker's gone. Nobody's heard of him since he attacked that SWAT truck." The news of six men being slaughtered by the Joker had pushed even the story of Batman's identity from the front page. People had clamored in outrage that the Joker broke his word, but he of course was nowhere to be found.

"I'm not going to believe he's dead until there's a picture of his corpse on the front page." I shuddered at Amber's gruesome declaration. At times like these, one could tell she hadn't been born a socialite.

"Really, Amber. So graphic." Amber glared at me, but I simply shot her a too-sweet smile. Some of us actually have class.

Michelle sighed theatrically, cutting short the silent battle. "I liked Bruce, though. Such a sweetheart." She shook her head. "What a shame he's in jail."

Of course Michelle thought it was a shame. For an entire month, she had very nearly attached herself to Bruce's arm at social functions. The tabloids had been speculating about the possibility of her being the future Mrs. Wayne. Maybe that was the reason Bruce had turned himself in. I had to force down a smile at that thought. Yes, Michelle was the kind of person who would drive someone to being arrested. So clingy.

I chanced a quick glance to where Peter and the blonde stood. She playfully swatted his arm, but he just smiled and took a step backward. Good. That ought to show her he wasn't interested. I returned my attention to the table.

Time to add my opinion to the mix. "I always thought there was something strange about him." I had known it since I laid eyes on him. Too happy, too charming, too handsome, too overdone. I took another tiny sip of champagne, for appearences. Really, where was the waiter?

Amber nodded in agreement.

"What ever happened to that butler of his? Adam?" Michelle frowned as she tried to remember the man's name. As if it mattered.

I shrugged. "Who cares? He hasn't been seen in Gotham since before Bruce turned himself in. I personally think he swiped as much money as he could and left the country."

Amber shook his head. "Can you imagine living with the Batman? I'm surprised he didn't figure it out."

Michelle cast a disdainful look at Amber. "It's obvious he was in on the whole plot. He's known Bruce his whole life. He even inherited the Wayne fortune when Bruce was declared dead."

Ah, that had been a scandal back in the day. Who ever heard of leaving the family fortune to the butler? The Waynes had always been an odd bunch. Perhaps that's why Bruce had gone so strange.

"If the butler didn't know where Bruce was for seven years, they obviously weren't that close. If I was a masked vigilante, I wouldn't tell my worker what I did after hours." Ha, as if Amber would do something as dramatic as that. She was the kind of woman who cried at paper cuts and screamed at spiders.

"So you think Adam didn't notice his employer simply disappeared all night?"

"Well, sure he might have noticed. He might have even questioned Bruce about it. But it doesn't mean that Bruce would have had to tell the butler where he went."

I rolled my eyes as Amber and Michelle got into a debate about the butler. Boy-toy seemed content to simply sit there, so I stood up with a polite smile. "Oh, excuse me. I have very important matters to discuss with Peter…" I swept away, ignoring Amber's knowing look. She could smell relationships like a shark scenting blood.

Peter and the blonde had disappeared, and I looked in vain for them. Finally, one old woman (someone's grandma, I'm sure) put a consoling hand on my arm. "I saw them leave about half an hour ago, dearie." The sad look, along with the hand on my arm, told the reason for their departure.

My blood boiled. How dare she! I clenched the hand that was not wrapped around my glass of champagne. It was obvious that I was interested in Peter, but that snake had gone and taken him! I stalked away, not even bothering to say thank you to the woman.

I spied a waiter weaving his way through the crowd, and made a beeline for him. There was someone I could take my irritation out on. I thumped my glass of champagne on the plate he held so hard the liquid went sloshing out.

"This champagne is absolutely repulsive! I don't know why you thought it would be acceptable to serve this swill." I hissed. The man looked taken aback. "And the service is absolutely terrible! I was waiting for one of you waiter to come to my table for a good long while. This party is a disgrace." I whirled on my high heels and stalked out of the door.

The man in charge of the coat rack got a good earful of insults, as well as the doorman. My driver was very sympathetic, and let me rant the entire time back to my mansion. When he pulled into the driveway, I was sufficiently calmer. I exited the car gracefully, all signs of anger well-hidden.

My maid drew up a hot bath, and I was able to relax in the steam and calming scents of bath salt. I reflected on my actions at the party, and let out a groan. They would all be talking about my loss of composure. The only thing I could do was smile while they sent subtle jabs at me, and hope that something else grabbed their attention soon enough. Pity the Joker hasn't been seen. He had a knack for capturing the attention of Gotham.